It Can Wait
by Sandalaris
Summary: The future can wait. Jalex. Rated T for mild sugestive themes.


It Can Wait

Summary: "You need to protect Alex. She's your little sister, and I want you to take care of her, you know, keep her out of trouble." Jalex

When Justin was seven Alex scraped her knee, magically. He wasn't even sure if she was trying to do a spell, but one minute she was playing with their dad's old wand, the next she was sitting on the wall, her knew tattered and bleeding, and screaming her head off for Justine save her. He ran and got Dad.

After Jerry got her down, and Theresa put a band aid on it and kissed it better, Jerry sat his eldest down and told him, "You need to protect Alex. She's your little sister, and I want you to take care of her, you know, keep her out of trouble." Justine had nodded solemnly, engraving the words in his mind.

On Justin's 10th birthday he learned that his little sister had an evil streak. There had been pranks before, but this was the first time they were directed solely at him. Their mother was wiping cake off the walls for two days after all of his guests had gone home. Justin yelled and cried at how unfair it was that his birthday party was cut short because of a food fight, but he didn't correct Alex when she claimed that she was not the first one to throw the cake.

He moved into his first apartment during his first year of college. He had a roommate, who spent more time at his boyfriend's apartment than he did theirs, so he rarely saw him and the rent was cheap. He had been worried at first, about not being there at home for when Alex would need him to bail her out. He didn't even factor his parents or Max into his decision. He'd long ago given up on worrying as to why that was.

It should have been raining and nighttime, the first time Justin opened his door to see his little sister standing on his stoop, but it was bright and sunny, and she was smiling as she stepped in, but her eyes darted around the room, refusing to even land on him for a moment and her voice held a false cheeriness. She called him a dork, made fun of his sweater, talked about Max and their parents, and just casually mentioned that Dean and her had broken up. He ignored the little happy flip in his stomach and settled on letting her watch a mixture of horror and romantic movies on his couch until she feel asleep around midnight, her eyes puffy although he'd barely seen the tears.

He made a spare key the next day and slipped it into her purse. He came home two weeks later to find his little sister sitting on his couch and watching T.V. They didn't talk much, but she stole the remote and it was comfortable and familiar.

There was a pounding at the door. It was midnight, and the knocking was going at an off beat. Justin opened the door to see a very inebriated Alex giggling on his door step. He brought her in, listen to her giggle her way through an explanation. "I was at a party, but I'm not going to tell you that. You'll tell Mom and Dad and they'll get mad."

"How much-Never mind." He called their parents, telling them that Alex was staying with him for the night; they'd gotten caught up in watching movies and forgot the time. Theresa thanked and lightly scolded him, and he could hear Jerry grumbling sleepily in the background, before she wished him good night and hung up with a "Tell Alex I love her, and don't forget to call next time." By the time he got back to his intoxicated sister, she was passed out on his couch. He didn't want her to be cold, or uncomfortable, which was stupid because she was his sister and he followed rules, and she broke them so she should take the punishment from passing out on his couch, but she'd come to him, she always came to him, and she looked so young and innocent asleep, sleep was always deceptive, so he picked her up and carried her into his room.

When Alex woke up, she found a glass or water by her bed and two small white pills next to it. Her mumbled thanks made giving up his bed for the night worth it.

The second time Alex slept in Justin's bed they were both completely sober. She had just shown up, one week before she was supposed to graduate. She had already told their parents she was staying at Justin's, a pre-graduation celebration. She was worried and scared, but she didn't say it. She insulted him a bit, teased his clothes, and they laughed at the mundane things. They stayed up late and he let her steer the conversation. There was a tension between them, there had been since they'd hit puberty, but it felt more real that night, more tangible.

"It's never going to go away is it?" She gestured vaguely between them. She'd always been one to just react; not think past the first solution she thought of to whatever problem faced her. She was leaning closer, and he tried not to think of consequences and morals as her lips brushed his and then she was leaning closer to him and there was tongue and she was in his lap, straddling him, and his hands were on her hips and there was no need to try not to think anymore.

There was guilt there, at the edges of his view, in the crevices of his mind, slowly growing into an ugly monster and Justin drowned it out with the touch of her skin, the feel of her hair, the taste of her lips. He would deal with it later, when she wasn't so warm, and he didn't feel so alive. When he wasn't getting what he'd been wanting since she entered Junior High. Not a word was said as they went back to the bedroom, or as shirts where shed and there was skin, so much skin to touch, to feel.

She stopped him when his hand went for the strap of her bra and he gazed at her questioningly, fearing it was over already. Her voice was the barest of whispers, delicate in the dark "You always need everything to be perfect and I'm…" Her gaze dropped from his, the barest hint of red touching her features.

"You always were. To me." He couldn't tell her more, tell her how she'd thrown his idea of perfection out the window years ago, how she far surpassed any expectations he ever had of any girl he could ever imagine, but she took his answer at face value, the embarrassment in her eyes changing to the teasing glint as she slowly removed the last items of clothing.

The guilt didn't come back until the next morning as Justin lay watching his sister sleep. It started out as a kind pride, feeling her body warm and heavy, seeing her face contented and peaceful and knowing he made her feel that way. It was almost primal and purely male, but it morphed, twisted into a monster of guilt that clawed at him. He barely made it to the bathroom before it clawed its way out of him.

She woke up and he made breakfast, and there was no awkwardness that should have been. It was familiar and homey and the guilt sheathed its claws until after Alex had left, back to their parents' home, away from him.

Alex graduated. There was a party to celebrate, and she went out with Harper and stayed out late. She'd gotten into a community college, until she decided what it was she wanted to do. Justin's roommate moved out and Alex moved in. It helped, he thought, made the guilt less alive, more vague and meaningless. She had her own room, but she spent most nights in his, there were fights and love and little petty pranks, but they were together. He knew he couldn't last, that there would never be a house with a white picket fence in their future, never wedding bells or children and when he was alone, Alex at classes or out with friends, the knowledge would nearly kill him, but then she'd come home and kiss him hello and that was the future and the future could wait. They were in the here and now and wouldn't waste one moment.


End file.
